


Before Coffee

by VampAmber



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel (Supernatural) Loves Coffee, Complete, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mornings, Pointless, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampAmber/pseuds/VampAmber
Summary: Every morning, it was the exact same, just like clockwork. Dean would get up to make the coffee while his husband stayed in bed, usually grumbling over the loss of Dean’s body warmth.





	Before Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I apologize profusely for how short this is, but damn it, my writers block has been utterly killing me lately and somebody suggested trying to write a really short ficlet to help, and it worked. So, I give you a few hundred words of tooth-rotting level domestic fluff, because my muse hates everybody.

Every morning, it was the exact same, just like clockwork. Dean would get up to make the coffee while his husband stayed in bed, usually grumbling over the loss of Dean’s body warmth. Once the coffee was brewing, Dean would grab the paper from the front porch as the house filled with the smell of dark roast blend. He would open the paper and check out the headlines as the coffee maker dripped its last few precious drops of caffeine into the pot.

Dean would put the unread paper to the side and grab two mugs from the cupboard; the Batman one for himself and the Bee Happy one for Cas if they were clean. He’d then pour himself a cup, black, and take it back over to the chair to start actually reading the paper. He would get maybe two or three pages in, never quite to the comics but usually pretty close, when grumbling would be heard in the hallway.

Cas would stumble into the kitchen, eyes still glued shut, as he mumbled nonsense under his breath. Then he would head over to the coffee pot and empty mug magically as if by instinct (Dean had tested this out once, putting a chair in the middle of the floor, but Cas had skillfully maneuvered around it without even once opening his eyes). Still mumbling non-words under his breath, Cas would crack an eye open just enough to pour the coffee into the mug and not on the counter, then he would add in so much cream and sugar that it was almost white by the end. He’d stir it all up and toss the spoon in the sink without needing to look, then he would take his first blissful sip.

Slowly, as that first cup of coffee disappeared inside his mouth and down his throat, Cas would become more and more aware of his surroundings. By now, Dean could judge exactly how much was left in the mug by how human his husband looked. And every single time, when the mug was finally empty and Cas was back in the land of the living, he would look over lovingly at Dean and say, in his gruffer-than-usual morning voice, “Good morning, Dean.”

“Morning, Sunshine,” Dean would always respond, putting down his half finished newspaper and half finished cup of coffee to kiss his husband for the first of many times that day.

Every morning, it was the exact same, and every morning Dean fell more in love with Cas than he ever thought possible.


End file.
